


X Partners

by Sajo



Category: Original Work
Genre: Art, Developing Relationship, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Korean Characters, Light Angst, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Pining, Sexual Content, Slice of Life, Unrequited Crush, for decisions made while buzzed/drunk and/or emotionally compromised, not as explicit or frequent as the title may imply haha, well...half-assed attempts at webtoon-style snippets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:06:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23219725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sajo/pseuds/Sajo
Summary: Taehoon is devastated when his best friend gets engaged. Sungwoo, the young department head of the company at which they all work, offers to help him get over his unrequited feelings. It's an uncomplicated solution, to the benefit of both men.
Relationships: OMC/OMC
Kudos: 6





	1. 태훈 1

**Author's Note:**

> Something simple, with very short chapters and occasional attempts at art/comics, full of some of my favorite tropes ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ (and despite the title, the smut probably won't be _too_ explicit).  
> Translation notes are at the beginning of each chapter!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taehoon accepts Sungwoo's help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Translations**  
>  \- bujang (부장) = title for a general manager or department head of a company  
> \- jondaemal (존댓말) = polite or formal speech, used when speaking to adults, strangers, anybody above you, or a social peer  
> \- banmal (반말) = casual speech, used with close friends or people younger than you

It's an odd feeling, to finally realize: _This is it. This is all the time I have left with my best friend before he builds a new life apart from me._

Taehoon can't stop the despair from welling up. A suffocating sensation exacerbated by the crowded restaurant around him, the sounds fading into nothing but the pounding in his head—and Kyuwon's laughter.

Before the engagement with his fiancee, that laughter had always been a beautiful, invigorating sound.

Taehoon knocks back another shot of soju and with a mumbled excuse, he gets up. Away from the laughter and the raucous joy and the teasing of his coworkers. Away from Kim Kyuwon's brilliant, drunken smile.

Outside, he barely notices the cold winter air. He can't steady his breathing enough to take a decent drag of his cigarette, so he chews at the filter instead, letting the tears drip down his face for who knows how long, before he crushes the cig and drops it to the ground.

With a deep, shaking breath, he takes off his glasses as the tears continue to fall, blurring the dimly lit lines of the decorative brick wall in front of him. He wipes futilely at his face. It's shameful, a grown man breaking down like this in the alley behind a restaurant. He hasn't cried so pathetically in years, in over a decade—but he can't seem to stop.

"Kang Taehoon?"

He doesn't respond, keeping his face hidden behind his hands. He has no idea why Jo Sungwoo, his four-years-younger department head, is out here talking to him.

"You forgot this."

Taehoon takes the coat being nudged against his arm. "What are you doing out here, Jo-bujang?"

"I'm enjoying a cigarette. The weather's perfect for it."

Taehoon bundles his coat to his chest.

After a while, Sungwoo says, "Take a cab home if you can't handle it." Rather unfeeling, even as he keeps up his jondaemal. "Seeing you like this is unsettling."

"Then go find somewhere you won't be disturbed."

Sungwoo snorts. "You're too hung up on him, if an informal engagement party with coworkers is all it takes to break you down. Don't act so pitifully and get over whatever lingering feelings are crippling you."

Taehoon's grip on his coat tightens as anger rushes through him. "Jo-bujang," he says through gritted teeth, one hand still covering his eyes. "You might be my boss, but that gives you no right to—"

"You're stronger than this."

"You don't _know_ me." Taehoon finally looks at Sungwoo, who's little more than a blurry mess of colors. "You don't know anything, you don't know how much I—"

His outburst is cut short when he's pulled into a warm embrace. It's a surprising move, and calming in its unexpectedness. Sungwoo grips him tight, one hand at the back of his neck, the other secure at his waist.

"...You don't know shit," Taehoon murmurs into the lapels of Sungwoo's coat. He keeps his arms at his side, not sure what else to do with them. "So just shut up and leave me alone."

"I don't think I can."

There's a short, silent moment. Taehoon doesn't say anything and tries not to sniffle too much into the fabric. He's a damn mess.

"Well," Sungwoo speaks up again, "I can shut up, maybe, but..." and he trails off, and then he presses his mouth against Taehoon's.

It's a quick, rough kiss—over in a couple seconds.

Taehoon wipes at his eyes again, just to give himself something to do, before he opens his mouth for an appropriate response.

"Crazy bastard...are you drunk?"

"Maybe a little. And you must be, if you're finally dropping the formalities and cursing. Not that I mind. We aren't coworkers right now."

Taehoon lets out a short, wry laugh. "Then what are we right now?" He tries to step back, to reestablish the usual polite distance between them, but Sungwoo's arms tighten around him.

"Right now...I'm...your junior, who wants to help you."

"Help? Now?" Taehoon smirks. "After the lovely pep-talk you gave me just minutes ago?"

"Let me help you forget. At least for tonight."

"And how will you do that?"

Sungwoo takes Taehoon's face again, palms gentle and soothing, and pulls him in for another kiss. Slower this time, with much more heated intent behind it.

Taehoon hasn't kissed anyone—not remotely like this—in a very long time, and he can't match the skill or even hope to catch up at this moment. So he lets it go on and thinks about nothing but the sensations until he's a little less cold and a little more out of breath.

When Sungwoo lets up, Taehoon looks away and focuses on the hazy white puff of his breath in the chill winter air. He's aware of Sungwoo's hand wrapped around his bare wrist, but it doesn't quite feel like he's in his own skin anymore.

"We're both drunk right now."

"Yes," Sungwoo goes along easily.

For all his inexperience, Taehoon knows what's being offered. They're standing close enough that even without his glasses, he can read Sungwoo's expression: patient, amicable, expectant—and beyond that...Taehoon doesn't know or care.

Maybe it's okay, to resort to this. Necessary measures and all.

"Then help me."

* * *

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Korean is tricky and there's a lot I can't really accomplish when trying to work with the nuances of the language...much of which is lost in the way the two MCs address each other. Just know that Sungwoo, even when he's saying mean things, has never and will probably never (in the foreseeable future) use banmal toward Taehoon.
> 
> (Also...I really oughta work on my other story...OTL)


	2. 태훈 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taehoon tries to stop thinking about Kyuwon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Translations**  
>  \- bujang (부장) = title for a general manager or department head of a company  
> \- hyung (형) = "older brother" used by males to address other males (blood-related or not)

"Aren't you cold?" Sungwoo lets go of Taehoon's wrist. "Here—"

Taehoon takes a half-step back beyond Sungwoo's reach to drape his coat over his shoulders. Pulling the edges closed and gripping them tight, he steps out of the alleyway, and follows automatically when Sungwoo quietly takes the lead.

When they make a quick stop at a convenience store, Taehoon waits outside. Belatedly, he puts his glasses on again, to give himself something to do and try to regain some sense of balance, and watches people walk by and tries to think about anything but Kyuwon. And then—there's the weight of Sungwoo's hand on his shoulder, a brief touch and welcome distraction. He keeps his eyes on Sungwoo's back as they start walking again.

Minutes later, they arrive at a motel. In another moment, they're standing inside a room. Taehoon is still on autopilot as he takes off his shoes and hangs up his coat.

"Let's get washed up."

 _Jo Sungwoo likes touching people's faces_ , Taehoon thinks, absurdly, as hands tilt his head down. He's not sure he responds appropriately when Sungwoo's mouth covers his.

In a strangely intimate gesture, Sungwoo gently takes the glasses off Taehoon's face and sets it aside. "Some cold water for your eyes first..." His thumbs brush against the irritated skin under Taehoon's eyes. "And then a hot shower."

Taehoon immediately complies because it's a pretty good idea.

...There's absolutely no reason to be crying again.

He barely registers the shock of cold when he steps into the shower before the water has time to heat up, ashamed that he can't seem to control his emotions. It really is unsettling, how something that should come easy for him just...doesn't.

And the disappointment and the frustration and the contempt at himself are all mixed up with the sudden ache of yearning. He's dreamed about sharing this kind of intimacy with Kyuwon enough times—and each time, he's waved away those fantasies with the reminder, 'don't be stupid, Kang Taehoon'—that he shouldn't be so affected, but the reality of his immediate situation is bringing up all those pointless thoughts to the surface.

"Kang Taehoon, look at me."

Taehoon barely has time to turn around and face Sungwoon before he's pulled into another embrace. It isn't quite as comforting as Kyuwon's, but it's a decent substitute.

"You can talk," Sungwoo murmurs against Taehoon's ear. "If it helps."

"Kyuwon's been my best friend since the first day of elementary school," Taehoon starts before he can think about what he's going to say.

Sungwoo is still and silent, his hold steadying; Taehoon lifts an arm and clutches his shoulder.

"We got into countless scrapes together, and we've stuck by each other, we always had each other's backs—...both of us grew up without siblings, and at first I thought: this was what having a brother was like. But then...then it wasn't. I've loved him as more than— _other_ than a brother for so long I can't remember exactly when things changed."

The fall of water from the showerhead is almost loud enough to cover up the desperation of his words, which tumble out of his mouth easily now that he's gotten started.

"I fled from the restaurant like a coward because—because I couldn't handle trying to look happy while congratulating him when every syllable out of my mouth made me want to throw up. He would know immediately that I wasn't being completely honest—if he wasn't so drunk on booze and newly-engaged bliss. The announcement came from nowh—no, the signs were there but I thought..."

Taehoon pushes away from Sungwoo's arms and leans against the wall, covering his face because it's shameful how bad he is at getting a hold of himself.

"I thought I would have more time. That I could handle the news the same way I've been handling everything to do with Kyuwon."

Although he did, somehow, function at work earlier today, after receiving Kyuwon's text message last night: 'She said YES!! You're the first one I'm telling, keep it a surprise tomorrow yeah? We're gonna announce it and then I'm gonna buy everyone dinner!'

'With what money?' Taehoon had texted back, barely remembering to add, 'Congrats! I'm happy for you.' It's easy to say things that aren't quite honest through the barrier of a phone screen. 'Get some sleep so you don't end up leaving your own little engagement party first.'

"Don't think about him," Sungwoo's voice cuts through the memory, while his thumb is wiping the tears away—a pointless gesture.

"I'm trying."

Taehoon really, really needs to get over this, because he's much too aware what a complete, pathetic wreck he is right now.

In a renewed effort to try, he attempts a lighthearted, "You said you'd help, Jo-bujang."

Sungwoo snorts. "Why the sudden formality? Call me Sungwoo. Call me by my name, hyung." He punctuates each word with soft kisses all over Taehoon's face. "Taehoon-hyung."

It's kind of ridiculous.

"Okay...Sungwoo."

It's ridiculous. And the request is as unfamiliar as everything else has been tonight.

But it helps, and Taehoon doesn't comment further. He's thankful for the distraction of insistent hands running over his body and taking liberties that's only adding to the excitement thrumming just under his skin. He doesn't fight when Sungwoo refuses to hand over the bath sponge and takes it upon himself to wash them both.

By the time all the soap is rinsed off, Taehoon is so aroused it almost hurts.

There's a rush of cool air as Sungwoo parts the shower curtain to get something. Taehoon leans his forehead against the wall, eyes closed as he waits, and then Sungwoo's hands are back on his skin again and wandering down with clear intent.

"Tell me to stop if I do something you don't like."

Taehoon makes some kind of affirmative noise. He doesn't have the desire or energy to talk right now. He doesn't want to think, or make decisions, or dwell on his inexperience and the fact that he's never actually had sex with another guy.

"Hyung, you need to tell me, please."

"I will."

It's not the most comfortable feeling when it's so sudden, but he's done _this_ before a few times himself, so he's not totally clueless about getting his body to relax.

And it's easy—to just keep his tired eyes shut and to think about nothing but the fingers in him, to feel the sparks of pleasure he's nearly forgotten about. It feels more intense, better, just— _more_ , with another person.

He isn't quite prepared for the next gentle prod. His legs almost give out before he steadies himself, but Sungwoo doesn't let up, and Taehoon doesn't get another moment to catch his breath until he's taken right to the edge—

"We should take this to a more comfortable place."

Taehoon has no idea how he makes himself walk, but they're on the bed and moments later he feels something considerably wider than a couple fingers entering him. It's a little painful at first, and Sungwoo must notice something off because he stops moving, which is the last thing Taehoon wants.

"Does it hurt? Hyung, you need to tell me if it does."

Loosening his tight hold around Sungwoo's shoulders, Taehoon shakes his head and manages, "I didn't say to stop. Keep going."

Sungwoo is quick to obey, and it takes Taehoon a few moments to adjust to the steady, quickening pace. But, again, it's better than floundering in his roiling thoughts and self-flagellation—...and then it's just pleasure taking over.

Mostly. Probably.

It's the most effective distraction yet; the tears he can feel leaking out the corners of his eyes must be due to the overwhelming sensations. A vague and brief pang of regret, that it isn't Kyuwon his limbs are wrapped around—Taehoon suppresses that thought.

He stops thinking and lets himself fall apart.

When he can breathe properly again, Taehoon feels utterly wrung out, and frighteningly boneless.

Is that normal? He isn't sure what 'normal' is when sex is involved.

"How do you feel, hyung?"

"...Good." Taehoon can't muster the energy for a lengthier explanation.

Also, he's preoccupied by the peculiar bursts of sensation from the hickeys Sungwoo is leaving behind on his chest. Sungwoo's hair is still wet, and Taehoon tries not to pull too much at them.

He thinks he's almost done collecting himself when Sungwoo speaks up again.

"Sooo...can I do it again?"

How endearing. Taehoon lets out a short laugh, barely gets out a "Yes," before his thighs are being spread and pushed up.

He sort of feels like a doll, letting Sungwoo rearrange his limbs into whatever facilitated the sex, but he doesn't mind. He grips the edges of the pillow and holds on as Sungwoo slides in again.

* * *

TBC


	3. 성우 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sungwoo acknowledges that he hasn't made the wisest choices regarding Kang Taehoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Translations**  
>  \- hyung (형) = "older brother" used by males to address other males (blood-related or not)

Sungwoo was a little buzzed, earlier. It's probably why he felt emboldened to act.

But he's sober now, and all too aware that Kang Taehoon is dozing off an arm's reach away, tangled up in a bedsheet that covers just enough of him that every glimpse of his skin is a tantalizing reminder.

Sungwoo can't help it. He watches the gentle rise and fall of Taehoon's chest for a while, before his gaze lingers on the marks that he can see—only a few of the many others he's left all over Taehoon's beautiful golden skin—and the exposed curve of his neck, and the relaxed sprawl of his arms.

Spending the night in a cheap motel room, with Taehoon in tears for about half their time together, isn't how Sungwoo envisioned their potential first intimate encounter...not that he had any solid plans or anything.

He never thought he'd actually get the chance to act on his silly, harmless little infatuation, and when the opportunity _did_ arrive, he fucked it up.

Seeing Kang Taehoon, of all people, crying softly into his big hands with his broad shoulders hunched and his tall figure looking impossibly small, was a shock to Sungwoo's system. Soft-spoken, cool and composed Kang Taehoon...drunk and emotionally hurting and probably starved for any source of comfort. Sungwoo fumbled his initial attempts at giving some of that comfort, and then he just went on to keep making selfish choices.

He can't ignore how he's taken complete advantage of the situation.

Carefully tracing the line of Taehoon's collarbone with a finger, Sungwoo pauses at the lurid bruise he left there. He hasn't tried particularly hard to exercise self-control, too caught up in the way Taehoon responded to his touches like a starving man, eager and desperate. In the way that, even when he was lost in pleasure and clinging to Sungwoo like a lifeline, there was a familiar sort of restraint in his quiet sighs and needy moans.

An enthralling, intimate and private aspect of Kang Taehoon that Sungwoo never expected to see, juxtaposed with the quintessential version of coworker-Kang-Taehoon that Sungwoo knows.

Biting his lip, trying to tamp down his rekindling lust, Sungwoo gently rearranges the bedsheet to cover Taehoon a bit more.

Kang Taehoon is devastatingly attractive in any setting. It isn't his fault that Sungwoo's still helplessly crushing on him, that Sungwoo couldn't keep his hands off or his dick out of him for more than a few minutes tonight.

Space and time are needed to mend heartbreak, and it's definitely not a great idea for Sungwoo to pursue something that will hinder the process and make Taehoon uncomfortable.

But...now that Sungwoo's had a taste, he...really doesn't want to let go. It's mostly his dick speaking; maybe a tiny bit of input from his heart. He's totally fine with continuing to provide sex as a distraction.

Taehoon shifts, sighs awake.

Sungwoo jerks his hand back. He watches Taehoon reach for the damp towel over his eyes, which Sungwoo placed earlier in hopes of easing the puffiness from all the crying.

Taehoon doesn't look surprised. He also doesn't seem to notice Sungwoo staring at him. The silence is loud around them.

"It's late, hyung," Sungwoo murmurs after a few seconds pass by. "Get some more rest."

"I'm not sleepy." An acknowledgement of Sungwoo's presence, at least—even if Taehoon's gaze doesn't move away from the ceiling.

Sungwoo has paid enough attention over the years that he's no stranger to the affection with which Taehoon regards Kyuwon. "Are you thinking about him again?" It's obvious, in the soft expression and the melancholy dimming his eyes.

Taehoon quirks a halfhearted smile, bringing the towel back to his face. It's both sad and cute how he tries to hide that way.

"Just forget him."

"He's my best and oldest friend."

"I mean, forget your one-sided crush, hyung. It's unhealthy to let it weigh you down so much."

"...I will," Taehoon mutters, and then, "I'll get over it." In a motion that reflects the renewed determination in his voice, he tosses the cloth aside, finally meeting Sungwoo's gaze. He squints a bit.

 _Cute_ , Sungwoo thinks, before realizing it's probably because he can't see properly without his glasses. He's happy to move closer, because that also means they can kiss—if he's correctly reading Taehoon's expression, with his prettily parted lips and his gaze zeroed in on Sungwoo's mouth.

Taehoon opens up easily and this time he's more responsive, quickly getting into the spirit and being a lot bolder with his tongue.

"Do you have any ideas?" Taehoon is breathless and his lips are wet and his direct gaze is a little too intense and Sungwoo is so turned on, but none of it hides the matter-of-fact tone in that question.

"You could..."

There's an oddly bitter taste in Sungwoo's mouth that he tries not to dwell on. He sucks a bruise on the crook of Taehoon's neck—stalling, as he tries to get the rest of his suggestion out, and focusing on the increasing raggedness of Taehoon's breathing. 

"You could date," Sungwoo finally manages, trailing his lips along Taehoon's jaw, "Find someone to have a proper romantic relationship with."

"...Not right now. Can't say I'm all that interested."

A brief flicker of hope, before Sungwoo snuffs it out. He isn't so egotistical as to think he'll be the exception. He drops slow, soft kisses wherever he can reach, working his fist around Taehoon's growing erection.

"Kyuwon was...he was everything, for so long, and I—...I don't—..." Taehoon struggles sweetly as he tries to finish saying what he needs, breathing heavily and shuddering under Sungwoo's touch. "I don't know...how to—how to navigate the dating scene."

Sungwoo smiles against Taehoon's chest. He's pretty damn sure Kang Taehoon will have no trouble finding someone.

"But—I'll figure it out. Right now, though..."

Taehoon's long legs are wrapped tight around Sungwoo and Sungwoo can't think over his pounding heart and the fingers tangled in his hair and the insistent rubbing against his own raging erection.

"Right now what, Taehoon-hyung?"

"Your help is a perfect distraction."

Sungwoo decides he'll be a selfish, infatuated fool for just a while longer.

* * *

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how much more I'll be doing half-assed art lol...guess I'll keep at it until I just really don't feel like drawing??


	4. 태훈 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taehoon tries to pull himself together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Translations**  
>  \- hyung (형) = "older brother" used by males to address other males (blood-related or not)  
> \- jondaemal (존댓말) = polite or formal speech, used when speaking to adults, strangers, anybody above you, or a social peer  
> \- bujang (부장) = title for a general manager or department head of a company  
> \- haejangguk (해장국) = any kind of hearty soup eaten as a hangover cure; means "soup to chase a hangover"

Taehoon isn't sure what woke him up, but he's sitting up in the next second and trying to regain his bearings.

His head is clear. Aside from a few aches, he feels...okay. He's reasonably certain there are no more tears left in him; he's always been somewhat of a melancholy drunk.

He locates his glasses, which are safe and sound on the nightstand, and assesses the state of the motel room. Strewn clothes, messy covers and pillows, a conspicuous tube and ridiculous number of condom wrappers sitting on the nightstand on the other side of the bed... He looks down at his naked body and lifts the bedsheet. There are hickeys strewn all over his skin, and other damning evidence.

The realization hits him, rather like a punch to the stomach, of just how much he'd—how many times they'd—...

He can't even finish the thought, overcome with embarrassment. Despite the fact that he _is_ inexperienced when it comes to sexual relationships, let alone careless one-night-stands, he shouldn't be.

He's an adult on the cusp of thirty-three, he knows what he did, and he always tries to take responsibility for his actions. He can even acknowledge that maybe it's his decade-plus stint of abstinence that opened the floodgates. It's just—he briefly presses cool knuckles against his heated face—somehow, the cheery daylight illuminating everything around him luridly emphasizes the absolute indecency of what happened in this room last night.

There's a tightness in his chest as he remembers _why_ he ended up here. _You really are a pathetic wreck. Pull yourself together, Kang Taehoon._

Jo Sungwoo appears at the entrance of the bathroom and, reacting before he can actually think about how stupid that is, Taehoon yanks the bedsheet up to his chest.

Sungwoo lowers the towel from his hair and smiles. "Good morning, Taehoon-hyung."

"Yeah..." Taehoon looks away, shifting his gaze to the far corner of the motel room. He can't believe he thought it was a good idea to take advantage of Jo Sungwoo. Why in the world did Sungwoo go along with it? "Yes, good morning."

"You should wash up. It'll make you feel better."

"Thank you...for—last night," he tries for calm and civil, reverting to jondaemal, as usual around most of his colleagues and definitely around his direct superiors. "And I apologize for any inconvenience...Jo-bujang." The title comes out belatedly, awkward on his tongue.

Sungwoo's bright smile has faded into a tiny frown. Just as he's opening his mouth, Kyuwon's ringtone chimes.

Taehoon's heart sinks, even as he immediately starts scanning the area where the sound is coming from. His phone is somewhere on the floor, but he can't make himself get up and find it. His heart is beating rapidly his ears are ringing; he grips the covers.

The tone stops. Taehoon closes his eyes and tries to steady his breathing.

Then it rings again and, _Kang Taehoon, stop being stupid_ _._ He steels himself and just as he's about to get out of the bed, Sungwoo is suddenly standing in front of him.

"Here."

The small, familiar photo, depicting Kyuwon's candid grin, appears in Taehoon's line of sight. The phone continues to ring incessantly.

"You should answer it."

Jo Sungwoo comes up with quite a few sensible ideas. It doesn't mean they're necessarily all good.

Taehoon takes the phone and, pressing the 'answer' button, forces a smile on his face. "Morning, Kyuwon."

"Morning, Taehoon! You finally answered."

"Why are you calling me?"

"Because you didn't tell me you'd be ditching. I was worried."

"Is that Taehoon?" Choi Yejin's voice is faint in the background. She and Kyuwon are clearly in the same room.

"Gotta check on my bestie after his sudden disappearance."

Yejin's voice is much closer this time. "Good morning, Taehoon."

"Morning, Yejin."

"It's a relief to hear you're alright."

"Of course I am." Taehoon tries really hard to sound lighthearted, and reassuring, because she doesn't deserve any of his negative emotions.

"Sorry for interrupting you guys, I'll leave you to talk," she says, a smile in her voice, as sweet as usual.

There's the telltale smack of a kiss, and then it's Kyuwon's voice again. "Yeah, we were both a little worried. Not that you need me to look after you, but you're always responsible about letting me know when you have to leave an event early."

"I wasn't feeling all that well. Too much alcohol." It isn't a complete lie, so it's an easy admission with the added benefit of not rousing Kyuwon's suspicions.

"Mm, that makes sense. Hah, man, it really _has_ been a while, huh? I haven't seen you chug that much soju since university! You feeling better now? Probably," Kyuwon continues without a break; Taehoon finds it easier to smile, listening to his best friend's usual, animated way of talking. "You've always had a high alcohol tolerance. I still have a hangover myself...ugh, old age is catching up to me."

"You might want to start cutting back because..." Taehoon feels a tear rolling down his face. "Because there's only so much of your drunken stupidity even your saintly fiancee can tolerate."

Kyuwon laughs bashfully and Taehoon can picture it clearly. Wide mouth and sparkling eyes curved into gentle, dark crescents and squishy, freckled cheeks—all of which Taehoon finds so charming and lovable—and...it's not even directed at him, at least not as much, anymore.

"Yejin is absolutely a saint," and it's absolutely clear through Kyuwon's voice how much he's in love with her.

Sungwoo sits on the bed and curls an arm around Taehoon, and Taehoon remembers to breathe—calmly, steadily. "Get some more rest, or some haejangguk for that hangover."

"You too, Taehoon."

"Yeah. See you."

Taehoon ends the call first, turns his face away from Sungwoo's touch to wipe the tears off himself. It's easier to stop crying this time; not too bad an overreaction. He gets up—

And promptly trips over his shaking, uncoordinated legs.

He stays on the floor for a few moments, hearing Sungwoo trying not to snicker too much. The humiliation is definitely enough to stop feeling sad and pathetic. Also...it _is_ kind of funny, Taehoon acknowledges, silently laughing at himself, before he pulls himself to his feet again. He doesn't get to take another step forward.

"Hyung!" Sungwoo's arms are wrapped around Taehoon's waist. "I'm sorry, Taehoon-hyung."

There is...a _lot_ of casual touching going on, and a lot of 'hyung's being thrown about, both of which are not things that Taehoon is accustomed to. He stands awkwardly still, staring at the open bathroom door, unsure how to respond.

"I'm sorry for laughing, I just—"

"It's fine," Taehoon interrupts, trying not to be too impolite, and takes a step forward as a hint for Sungwoo to let go. "I need to shower."

Taehoon is released after a couple seconds, and he remembers to gather some of his clothing along the way. He takes the first few moments under the spray of warm water to relax, and then, while he scrubs himself clean, he comes up with next steps. The shower makes him feel at least ten times better, and he's much better prepared to deal with Jo Sungwoo, whether or not he's hanging around.

Sungwoo is sitting on the edge of the bed, still wearing only a towel. He looks up from his phone, and Taehoon discards the first two plans.

"How much was the room?"

"What?"

As he approaches Sungwoo, Taehoon retrieves his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans.

"Wait." Sungwoo grasps Taehoon's hands just as Taehoon tries to take out a few bills. "You don't need to..."

"I insist. You dealt with my...problems, last night and—"

"Please, hyung. It's not a big deal."

"Right, so let me—"

"No." Sungwoo stands up, holding onto Taehoon wrists and forcing Taehoon to take a half-step back. "I mean it, hyung," he says, voice soft but assertive. "You don't have to pay me back."

Taehoon nods, a tiny, brief movement, and tugs his hands out of Sungwoo's. "Some other way, then." He drifts toward the rest of his scattered clothes, pondering what to say next.

"You're rather cold, hyung. Is this how you usually treat the people you spend the night with?"

Taehoon looks at Sungwoo again, whose smile indicates he's not annoyed or anything. "I'm sorry," he says, placating, even if it seems like he's just being teased. "Like I said, thank you for last night, but I'll figure out how to—" he gestures vaguely "—to fix this myself. It would be wise to move on and not speak of this again, to anyone."

"...Of course. And I won't mention anything to Kim Kyuwon."

"Thank you." Taehoon puts his shirt back on, and then his socks.

"Although...I really don't mind helping."

"What do you mean?"

"Like last night. If you're truly ready to move on, I can help."

"I'm not interested in a romantic relationship." Taehoon still doesn't know what _exactly_ he means by that, but he certainly isn't ready to invest his emotions and attention on someone else. He needs to fix himself first before he can even attempt a functional _anything_ with another person.

"No, not that. I meant—let's be sex partners."

"What does—...oh." Of course. Taehoon wants to slap himself for his naivety: for his woeful lack of knowledge about these things, and for even briefly assuming that Jo Sungwoo was interested in a romantic relationship with him.

"No need for other complicated emotions. There'll be no reason to hurt each other. I'll gladly help, if you're set on forgetting your unrequited thing with Kim Kyuwon. I'll make you forget everything when you're with me."

Ridiculous. Taehoon, unable to think of other responses, latches on to that last statement. "Confident, are you?"

"Who was it last night, clinging to me and pleading for more? You couldn't get enough of me, hyung."

Embarrassment floods Taehoon's face, but he stands firm. He shakes his head. "The right thing to do is to go back to what we had before. A comfortable workplace relationship, maintaining an appropriate distance." He gives a practiced, polite smile. "I'll buy you lunch, sometime next week? And that'll be the end of it, Jo-bujang."

Sungwoo's expression is placid but otherwise unreadable.

"You have my number, text me when you're available."

"...Okay."

Taehoon is out the door in the next minute, hurrying to send a text to the director of the community center where he volunteers during weekends, to let her know he'll be somewhat late.

Outside, it takes a few seconds to recognize the area; his apartment is just a few kilometers away. He's not feeling too unusually sore from last night, so he starts walking.

His best friend's engagement is not the end of the world—he _knows_. The world keeps turning, same as always, and he still has responsibilities to fulfill, and Kyuwon has his own life to live. Their relationship has gradually been shifting, but it's not like Taehoon is literally, permanently, _losing_ his best friend—not at all; and he's told himself before, countless times, that he can't keep hanging onto his fantasy of having Kyuwon to himself.

But the pain is...comparable. He crosses an intersection, reaching a familiar hillside path. He's dealt with greater losses; he'll weather this one.

There's a burning sensation behind his eyes, again.

 _It would be nice if you could get through this with_ some _dignity, Kang Taehoon,_ he chides himself, and breaks into a run.

* * *

TBC


End file.
